Never Alone
by Bryaenek
Summary: The Doctor is having one hell of an adventure, but that all soon changes.


The earth, 4.54 billion years old, 40233.6 kilometers around, home to some 6,928,198,253 humans (among other far more intelligent life forms), was spinning at a rate of 1609.344 kilometers an hour, while it revolved at 29.78 kilometers an hour around its yellow sun which was about 700,000 kilometers away and 1408176 kilometer across. And in that instance, somewhere just breaking the earth's ozone layer, and flying at a rate of, I need my mommy, were a whole plethora of would be invaders running back to whatever planet they had come from. Olzet 3 prime, to be exact, but none of this mattered.

No, as the Doctor took long victorious strides across the wooden floor boards of the stage it didn't matter. His hands reach nimbly up to his throat and straightened his blue bowtie. The target was in sight and the grim determination on his face told all that he was not about to give up without what he'd come for. Maybe that was why everyone gave him wide birth, of course it wouldn't be because he'd saved their lives for the billionth time while they blundered about unawares like the stupid apes they were, he smiled a bit at that thought and then the spell was broken.

A giddy joy filled him as he approached it, his fingers tingled with excitement and the grimness melted away into a childlike visage of utter contentness as he plucked it from the head of Indonesian President Suharto. Never missing a step he walked on leaving the man to stammer in his wake. Pausing on the other side of the stage the Doctor tried in on while peering into a mirror. "Oh," he smiled in a beguiling tone at his sharply dressed self. "Black fez!" he turned to look at himself from another angle as the president's body guards came towards him.

"I like fezzes," he called out in a loud and happy voice to them as he watched their reflected approach. Then something in the mirror caught his eye, just the corner of it though a fleeting image that didn't seem real. It was Sister, his face fell. "Fezzes are cool." He said before turning and taking it off. "Not for me I'm afraid, not my color!" he explained calmly although he knew what would happen next. Tossing at them he turned, the heels of his shoes squeaking against the floor as he raced away the pair close behind him. "It's alright," he called in a laugh leaping over a stray dog wandering the road the exit had opened into. "I'm the Doctor!"

Running was the best part, or was it saving people? A woman shrieked as he barreled her way. With a quick thought he managed to press himself against the side of the building to avoid toppling her over. He winced as his shoulder bounced off it. Looking his arm which stung beneath his layers of clothes he was quite sure he'd blooded it. No, running was defiantly the best part! After only a few more strides and his shoulder was pressed firm against the TARDIS door and both his feet off the ground. Landing triumphantly he slammed and locked the door behind him. He winced as screaming bodies piled atop it, beating it with their fists.

"Sorry Sexy!" he murmured stroking the console before throwing up a lever and spinning knob. He looked at it alarmed, it shouldn't have spun like that, where was the resistance? It should have stopped after three goes round! There was little time to think of this as the TARDIS pitched forward launching him quite painfully face first into a number of dials. "No, no no!" he cried out as the familiar sound of her dematerializing roared to life and became mixed with a sharp, ear shattering whine. Sparks aimed at his face flew out of the console at the Doctor. The floor rumbled beneath his feet as he frantically zigzagged and cranked and wound and hammered away trying to gain some semblance of control. Finally he was thrown back and down a few short stairs as the TARDIS pitched again.

"Oh," he groaned from the ground a hand reaching up for his bloodied nose. His back ached and his skull was on fire but he had to get up, had to check on his old girl. Walking back up the way he'd fallen he examined her workings; she seemed as usual no worse for wear. Walking gingerly to the faulty gear he peered at it begrudgingly as the TARDIS landed. Taking his screwdriver from the top pocket of his jacket he pointed it decidedly at the thing and flicked it on. In a moment it was repaired. Sighing he sat down, craned back his head and pinched closed his nostrils.

After a moment the blood stopped and he wiped off his face, time to see what wonderful place an accident had conjured up for him! Bounding to the door he felt incredibly excited. The last time something like this happed he was knighted, kinged, usurped, jailed, married, sentenced to death, divorced, remarried and drunk under the table by a five headed monkey and all in one day! He laughed fondly at the old memories; he really needed to go back to Tucson sometime, space Tucson, not the one that was all sand and snakes, he'd seen that one enough times.

Throwing the doors wide he knew just where he was, Earth sometime in the early 2000s judging by the elevated (but not yet outrageous as they would come to be) levels of greenhouse gasses. The chill in the air said winter and the particular fizz to the air that all places had further explained, America. The Doctor's hearts were seized with the sharpness of fear and dread. He'd seen her, yet not allowed his eyes to pass over her, but he'd seen the woman lying motionless on the ground a few feet away from where he stood. He tried to breathe in but the air caught in his throat. He had to focus on something, anything as he felt his insides squeezed by a terrible vice. There was an oddly shaped mass near the end of the alley he chose that.

"Oh!" he sobbed gently as he slid to the ground, they were jeans torn or cut and left discarded in a heap. His chest was rising and falling in short uneven huffs, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes at any moment as he tried to find something else to look at. Of all the evils one could do! A sob wracked his body, his lips quavered as he finally let his eyes fall on her poor, pale and twisted form. Her hair was a long tangled brown curtain stretched over the gravel, her blouse was in tatters, one hand reached for her cellular and the other was twisted high over her head. "No!" he cried gently as he examined this poor unknown. Tangled about one bare foot were her panties.

He sat there and beat his head against the doorway his hands over his face as he sobbed. Then, angry, his jaw sharply set he rose like the sun after a war, hot and vengeful. Removing his coat he approached her. He was so very old and tired and there she lay so very young and so very broken. His breath caught again as he covered her. To his shock a small shudder emerged from the woman. Gently, and as slowly as possible he slid his arms beneath her and scooped her up. A weak cry left her lips and his tears returned. Walking steadily to the TARDIS he refused to look at her, it hurt far too much.

Crossing the threshold he kicked the door closed behind him and made his way left and down a short hall. After raising a few floors and taking a spiraled corridor he came to a clean and seldom used room. "I'm sorry." He said laying her down on the bed. He left the room but returned shortly with a warm wet washcloth, gaze, bandages, antiseptics, skin bondent and a few other things. Kneeling by the bed he gently wiped at the drying blood on her forehead. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" he wept. It was his fault, all his fault and he knew it. He's been too late to save her, whoever she was, as he had been with so many and like with all the others it was all his fault...


End file.
